


save me and i will save you

by nightcereusss



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Knows About Morgana's Magic (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Good Morgana (Merlin), Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Gwaine Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Kid Morgana (Merlin), Light Angst, M/M, Prince Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Knights (Merlin), Soulmates, Uther Pendragon Dies (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29284536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightcereusss/pseuds/nightcereusss
Summary: Soulmates, a blessed union of the gods.Arthur met his on the night that he almost died.(Also, kid Morgana because why not?)
Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	1. shadow passes

It’s a cold night. The forest is eerily calm, despite the chaos stirring in the heart of Camelot. Arthur grits his teeth, ignoring the pain flaring in his side in every jolt of the horse. He holds the sobbing raven-haired girl in his arms closer.

“Artie… I’m scared,” she hiccups, her fingers digging into his arm.

“Don’t worry, Morgana. Everything is going to be fine,” Arthur says fiercely, his eyes on the road ahead, following the trail of golden light. The light is certainly brighter than before, which means they’re getting close to their destination.

He tenses when he hears voices from a distance. He bites his lip in frustration. If Arthur continues, both of them will get caught. Not to mention, they will give away the only haven that they know. Arthur glances down at her sister.

 _Oh gods, her real sister_. The revelation took him by surprise. But it doesn’t matter. He has always seen Morgana as her sister.

His father is dead. His uncle betrayed them.

Arthur can’t let his only remaining family die.

His mind resolved Arthur pulls the reigns and groans in pain as he hops off the horse. He carries Morgana and gently places her on the ground. He crouches in front of her, a hand covering his bleedings his side. “Gana, I need you to listen to me,” he says as he holds her chin up. Even if the dark, he can see the fear in her green eyes.

“We’re going to play hide and seek. Alright?” he softly says to her, gently brushing some of the strands covering her eyes. He shows her the stone.

“This stone will show you a perfect hiding spot. All you have to do is to follow it. But you have to be really quiet. Just like how we sneak to steal sticky buns from the kitchen,” he looks at her in the eyes to see if she understands.

When Morgana feebly nods, Arthur gives her the stone. Her eyes widen as her green pools follow the trail of light that he can no longer see. “It’s pretty,” she mumbles in awe.

Arthur pulls her closer and plants a kiss on her forehead. “I need to go,” he croaks out while he stands up. Morgana’s head snaps up to him and clutches his leg. “No!” she cries out.

He forces himself to chuckle, despite the panic in his system as the noises get closer. “I’m it, Morgana. I have to give you time to hide. That’s the rule of the game remember?” Morgana looks like she doesn’t believe a single word that he said, but she still hesitantly let go of his leg.

Arthur climbs up again to the horse with difficulty and looks down again to Morgana. “Don’t stop until you found the hiding spot. I will find you, no matter what,” Arthur grins at her. Morgana bobs her head and starts to follow the trail.

Arthur manoeuvres the horse to the opposite direction of the trail, not looking back. Despite Morgana’s young age, she’s a clever girl. She’ll know what to do.

Now he has to do his part and give Morgana enough time to escape. “Run, Hengroen. Run!” he shouts, urging the black stallion to go faster. The clinking of the armours and beating of the hooves are getting closer now.

“Over here!”

Arthur swears. He takes a deep breath to calm down, pushing the hurt, betrayal, and every other emotion threatening to overwhelm him and tries to anticipate the actions of his pursuers.

He should have realized sooner from the noises around him that they’re trying to herd him. He reaches for his sword.

A horse suddenly jumps in front of him, but Arthur is already raising his sword. He swings it down mercilessly to the rider. Two more appeared in front of him, but he didn’t dare to change his direction, swinging viciously, and aiming to their vitals.

He’s Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot. He was trained to kill long before he learned how to even form a proper sentence.

More shouts fill the air, and soon there are men right behind him. Arthur’s heart pounds faster as he realizes his dire situation.

He arrived in a small clearing, and Arthur’s only warning of his impending doom is the whizz of an arrow. Hengroen wildly bucks and throws Arthur off. He momentarily blacks out as he falls on his side of injury, his muscles protesting in protest as he forces himself to stand up, and pick up his sword.

The bastards are laughing at him as they surround him. He tightens the grip of his sword. Arthur will not go down without a fight.

He hears someone jumps down from their horse. He turns slightly, keeping an eye out to the ones closest to him.

“Arthur,” a snake calls out.

Anger flares in his system, yet he didn’t dare move. “Agravaine,” he icily answers. His uncle chuckles deviously, taking another step forward.

“Put down your sword, boy.”

Arthur gives him a smirk. “Why? Are you scared of me?” he taunts loud enough for everyone around them to clearly hear. His uncle’s smile falters a little.

“You’re the one who should be scared, boy. You have nowhere to run and no one to help you,” Agravaine sneers at him, holding out a dagger coated with dark fluid. Arthur’s blood runs cold as he recognizes the weapon, the very one his uncle used to slit his father’s throat.

Arthur starts seeing red, and the next thing he knows, he’s lunging at his uncle. Agravaine barks out an order and parries Arthur’s attack.

The harsh sounds of steel clanging fill the clearing. Arthur’s movements lack its usual grace, the actions fueled both by his anger of his father’s death and will to survive.

He didn’t know how long he had been fighting with his uncle, but Agravaine is slowly backing him in the middle of the small clearing, his face beaming with a malicious expression after realizing that Arthur is at his limit.

Agravaine swings down with full force, and Arthur tries to parry it, but his arm gives out. Agravaine twists his sword and manages to disarm Arthur, throwing the sword way out of the prince’s reach. Arthur glares at him as Agravaine points a sword in his throat.

“A pity. You look like Ygraine, but you are your father’s son,” Agravaine says coldly, pressing the sword just enough to cut the skin of Arthur’s throat.

“Why are you doing this?” Arthur pants out, fighting to not to grimace in pain as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

“Both you and your father took Ygraine from me!” Agravaine snarls and Arthur flinches at the unexpected show of his uncle’s emotion.

“Killing you won’t bring her back,” Agravaine slowly says, regaining his cold, hard mask of an expression. “But it will help me sleep at night.”

It feels like the time has slowed down as Arthur sees Aggravaine drawing back his sword and lunges again at full force, aiming for Arthur’s middle. Arthur closes his eyes as he prepares himself for the killing blow.

I’m sorry, father. I’m sorry, Morgana.

The blow didn’t come.

When Arthur opens his eyes, everything is in chaos. His uncle flies to the other side, his body thumping on a tree. There are shouts of men fighting, sword clanging and horse panicking.

But all that Arthur can focus in is the glowing golden eyes of a young boy with pale skin that looks almost ethereal under the dim light of the moon, seemingly eye of the storm as the boy stands at the middle of the chaos.

And when Arthur feels a pleasant burn in his skin, he doesn’t have to look to know that there’s a black band wrapping his wrist.

The mark of the first meeting of soulmates.

~~~~~~

Soulmates.

Arthur first learned about it when he was thirteen summers old and discovered that his parents are soulmates. He didn’t believe it at first. It’s hard to picture Uther Pendragon, the iron-fisted ruler of Camelot, to have a soulmate.

The word sounds far too intimate and not to mention, magical, for the image of his father.

According to Gaius, their court physician and a close adviser to the king, soulmates are a blessed union of the gods. They are extremely rare to the point that most people think it’s just a legend.

A black thin band imprints on one’s wrist if they met their soulmates. These black bands will glimmer gold after the soulmates have truly accepted their partners and have successfully soul bonded. And when one’s soulmate dies, the band turns to white.

His father never mentioned his mother. When he tries to ask others about the late Queen Ygraine, they always make excuses and leave. At this point, Arthur thinks the notion of a soulmate is ridiculous. If his parents are soulmates, why does his father never spoke of her? Did he even love her?

All of his doubts immediately disappeared after that one rare morning when Uther sparred with Arthur. Arthur caught a glimpse of a pale white band on his father’s wrist. After their sparring session, he immediately sought out Gaius for answers.

The physician didn’t easily yield, much to Arthur’s chagrin. When a sorceress named Morgause appeared and offered him to meet his mother, Gaius gave him the answers.

His father wanted an heir, but his mother was barren. They asked help from a powerful sorceress. The sorceress warned his father that there was a steep price for this kind of magic. To create a life, another life had to be taken in exchange.

His father gained a son but lost his wife in the process. And his father killed the sorceress and blamed magic.

His father’s hatred for magic and the magic ban in Camelot made sense now, and Arthur can’t help but feel foolish and angry. The purge was the sick proof of his father’s love for his mother.

Arthur wonders if he will become his father if Arthur happens to have a soulmate and also loses his.

Bitter, cold and resentful.

Arthur doesn’t want to have a soulmate.

~~~~~

“Shit, that doesn’t look good.”

“Luckily we got there in time.”

Arthur slowly opens his eyes to see a man with dark, long hair peering over him. His face splits into a smirk. “Hey there, princess,” he says in a sultry voice, puckering his lips.

“Get out of his face, Gwaine,” and someone yanks the pervert out of his sight. “I apologize, my lord.”

Arthur grunts as he turns his head to the side. A tanned young man with dark cropped hair and brown eyes, sitting on a stool beside his cot. Behind him is the man called Gwaine, who puts a hand on his waist, eyeing him speculatively.

“You probably should stay still, princess,” Gwaine warns when Arthur gingerly sits up. He crosses his legs and leans against the wall to face the two men.

“Where am I?” he asks, looking around. It’s a small chamber. No, Arthur corrects himself. It’s a small room, the size the same as Gaius’ storage room. There’s a small cupboard near a wooden door across him and a small window. Judging from the light streaming from outside, it’s almost noon.

“We are at the border of Essetir just outside of Camelot, my lord,” the short-haired man answered. Arthur glances down at his body. He's only wearing his breeches, and his lower torso is patched up with bandages.

“I’m not a nobility,” he mumbles, more to himself. Everyone turns at the doorway when someone suddenly bursts inside the room.

“Artie!” his heart clenches the familiar bright-eyed young girl in a green dress. Arthur grins, laughing out breathlessly. Morgana squeals, running toward his cot. He ruffles her hair while she clambers up to the cot. “You stink at hide and seek, Artie!” she giggles after she settles beside him, stretching her legs.

Arthur pulls her skirt to properly cover her legs and gives her a small smile before he looks up to the two men. “Who are you? Why are you helping us?” he asks wearily.

The men exchange looks before turning to Arthur. “I’m Lancelot, and this is Gwaine. We are friends of Merlin, Gaius’ nephew.”

 _Merlin_.

At the mention of the old man’s name, Arthur releases a breath he’s unknowingly been holding. They’re here. They’re safe now. “I’m Arthur, and this is-“

“Morgana!” she exclaims rather proudly, and Gwaine lets out a laugh while Lancelot stares at the little girl fondly.

“Where’s… Gaius’ nephew?” Arthur awkwardly asks, not sure if it’s proper to use someone’s name before he even meets them. Somehow, it feels like he’s forgetting something important.

Lancelot opens his mouth but hesitates. Gwaine claps Lancelot’s back. “He’s sleeping, princess. It had been a long night,” he answers smoothly and winks at him.

Arthur pulls a face and Gwaine grins at him.

“Well, since Merlin is out like a light, Percival, you’ll meet him later, is busy cooking and Lancelot here is shy-” Lancelot rolls his eyes at Gwaine’s dawdling. “-I, Gwaine, welcome you to our humble abode.”


	2. a new home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon finds an important document, Arthur is still on the anger stage of grief and meets Merlin.

_Merlin,_

_This is a matter of utmost importance. The king is dead. I fear that Camelot is no longer a safe place for both the prince and the king’s ward. I’ve given them the stone, and now they're one their way to the cottage._

_I know that it doesn’t make sense, but I do not have much time to explain. But please, hide them. Keep them safe._

_You’re the only one that I can trust in this task, Merlin. I will write to you as soon as I can. Do not forget to burn this letter. Do not send anything. Wait until I send another letter before you give a reply._

_\- Gaius_

~~~~~

A week ago, King Uther disinherited Arthur and made Lord Agravaine his heir. It surprised everyone, especially Arthur.

And now, the king is dead and Arthur and Morgana are missing. Leon clenches his fist, remembering how most of the lords and the knights reacted to the news. Rumours are spreading that Arthur killed his father out of spite and abducted Morgana.

_It’s alright, Leon. If my father thinks I’m not worthy of the throne, then there must be something that I’m lacking. I just have to find it and regain my father’s trust in me._

There’s something wrong here. Leon knows his friend. Arthur will never harm his father nor Morgana. Arthur has never spoken ill of his uncle, but the knight knows that Arthur doesn’t trust Agravaine.

Leon doesn’t also like Agravaine either. The lord has nothing but charming, but not in a good way. Leon prefers dealing with the problem head-on and doesn’t like the courtly games where Agravaine is clearly _thriving_.

Something has changed. The knight kept an eye on Agravaine, who chose to sit on the king’s chair on the council chambers a while ago. The lord is calm while the chamber is filled with loud whispers of his nephew being a murderer. Agravaine let the council and the knights reach their own conclusions without even the proper investigation. Despite his calm demeanour, Leon can see how the lord’s eyes dart around, like a hunter losing its prey.

Leon stops from his track when he hears noises coming inside from the king’s chambers. He automatically reaches for his sword and feels the other knights with him doing the same. They quietly enter the chambers, and Sir Meliant looks up from where he’s searching the desk.

“Ah, Sir Leon, Sir Pellinore and Sir Bedivere,” Meliant flashes a dashing smile and strides across the room. Leon exchange looks with the other knights. No one is supposed to be here until they’ve done investigating the scene.

“Sir Meliant. What are you doing here?” Bedivere warily asks, the old knight still gripping the hilt of his sword.

“Lord Agravaine has ordered me to help you with the investigation,” Meliant nonchalantly says as he crouches near the bloodstain.

Leon frowns. Meliant should have waited for them. They divide themselves as they search around the chambers, trying to find clues or anything that will help make a picture on the night of the king’s death.

As for Leon, he’s trying to find something to prove his friend’s innocence. If he can’t find anything, Arthur will be declared a fugitive. He sneaks a glance at Meliant, whose body is facing the cupboard but his eyes darting at the papers on the desk.

Definitely suspicious.

Leon quietly heads towards the desk, not missing Meliant’s stare at him.

He carefully rifles through the papers, reading them and ignoring how his stomach churn at the drops of blood splattered in the parchments.

Leon almost jumps when something cold touches his arm. He can feel the shiver down his spine as he finds the source of the odd feeling.

That’s how he notices a parchment on the floor, and Leon’s heart starts to pound faster as he spots the king’s signature and a curled dragon in blank ink at the top of the parchment. The royal seal.

He picks up the parchment and reads it, and whatever his reaction must be is enough to attract the attention of the other knights as they rush to him. Hope and fear surges in his system when he finishes reading the paper.

Leon glances at the knights, who are still absorbed in reading the royal declaration in his hands. He notices the flash of dangerous glint in Meliant’s eyes.

"Send a word immediately to Geoffrey. We need to verify the document."

~~~~~

If it wasn’t for the slight burn in his stomach and the aches all over his body, Arthur would have thought that everything that happened last night is just a nightmare. They must have used magic to heal him. His injury was a deep stab wound. When Lance changed his bandages earlier, the wound just looks like a shallow cut.

Lance seats at the table, and Arthur follows suit. Gwaine roars, clawing his hands to make a piss poor impression of a bear and Morgana shrieks as she runs away from him, almost stumbling on her dress.

The cottage is big. It’s filled with furniture and has two floors. The lower floor has a spacious room and a kitchen separated by a thin wall. The upper floor has been divided into several bedrooms and a small library.

“What happened after I lost consciousness?” Arthur asks, lowering his voice.

“We took care of the rest, but some of them escaped, including the one that you were fighting with, my lord,” Lance says gravely. He shakes his head. “You don’t have to address us like that. Just call me Arthur.”

Arthur’s disappointed, but not surprised. He carefully masks his anger, not wanting to show ire to their kind hosts.

“Go away ugly bear!” Morgana shouts at Gwaine and crawls under the table. Gwaine puts a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “I am not ugly!” he squawks indignantly.

A giant man with a shaved head emerges from the kitchen. “Children don’t lie, Gwaine,” he says with a toothy grin and notices Arthur. The man nods in his direction. “You’re awake.”

Arthur tries not to stare at the tree trunk size arms. “You must be Percival?” 

“Nice meeting you. How are you feeling?” he politely asks. Arthur shrugs as casually as he could. “It’s just a scratch. I’ll live.”

“You’ll fit right in,” Gwaine remarks, satisfied with Arthur’s answer. Lancelot chuckles and mutters something about waiting for Merlin’s reaction.

Morgana crawls out of the table and looks up at Percival. It’s almost comical how Morgana has to bend her neck all the way up just to properly see his face. She raises her arms, a silent demand to carry her. She squeals in delight when Percival crouches and picks her up, placing her in his broad shoulders and holds her hands.

“I tried my best,” Percival gives them a sheepish smile, and Lance groans as he stands up and heads to the kitchen. Arthur raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“None of us can cook except Merlin. You’re in for a treat,” Gwaine says to him and follows Lance. Morgana starts demanding her horse (Percival) to move, and the man indulges her as he gently walks around the room.

Now that he thinks about it, it’s unusual for Morgana to be friendly with other strangers. Even Gwen, her maidservant and one of the few people that Morgana actually likes, took several weeks before she earned a smile from the little harpy.

He shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. Gaius told him that this place would be safe for them, but Arthur didn’t expect it to be so… cosy.

Gaius saved their lives again. He had always been a second father to Arthur and Morgana. Arthur just hopes that Gaius along, with Gwen and Leon, are safe.

They can’t go back to Camelot, not when Agravaine is still alive. The knights who swore to protect the king followed Agravaine with no question. How many traitors are in their midst? How long has Agravaine been planning this?

Arthur wants to storm the citadel and wring the bastard’s neck with his bare hands. The only thing that’s stopping him is Morgana. He can’t be reckless with his actions, now that they’re on their own.

The clatter of plates and utensils pulls Arthur out of his thoughts. Lance places a burnt chicken in front of him. Its skin has been burnt to the point that it’s as dark as charcoal.

Another two plates of burnt chicken have been placed on the table. Gwaine and Percival fight over a decently cooked chicken leg until Lance quietly takes it and places it on Morgana’s plate.

“Gods, Percival. Did you just randomly throw these poor chickens to the fire?”

“You’re in no position to insult me, Gwaine. Tell us, how did you manage to explode a potato when all you did was boil it.”

Gwaine punches Percival in the arm, and a moment later, they’re rolling around the floor, scuffling and insulting each other. Arthur glances at Lance, who just sighs tiredly. “We better start eating. They’re going to be at it for a while.”

He takes Morgana’s plate, cuts the food into small pieces and feeds Morgana. She hums while she chews, occasionally feeding a piece to Arthur while his brother is busy dissecting the chicken. It’s actually not as bad as it looks. Or maybe they’re just hungry. They say everything is delicious when you’re starving. 

The sound of the cutleries and bantering eventually falls into the background, his mind replaying all of the things that happened for the past month in a haze.

They left Arthur alone for the rest of the day, letting him take rest and survey the surrounding. Thankfully, they don’t seem to mind entertaining Morgana. Arthur doesn’t really have the energy to chase around and play along with the eight-year-old’s antics.

After another burnt dinner, they retire to their own rooms. Arthur gently pulls the thin blanket on top of Morgana. She’s asleep, her arms widely spread across the cot and her mouth slightly open. It looks like she’s not going to have another horrendous vision any time soon.

Arthur stares at his sister. For the first time in his life, Arthur feels utterly lost.

She’s the only one he has now, and it’s clearly his responsibility to take care of her. Arthur loves her with all his heart, but _gods,_ he’s terrified. He’s in luck that these kind strangers are allowing them to stay here, but for how long? And after that, how is he supposed to raise Morgana?

He carefully stands up and heads out of the room, giving one last glance at Morgana before closing the door behind him. He tiptoes as he went outside, giving himself a distance from the cottage.

Arthur looks up as the cold wind brushes his skin. The stars seem to shine brighter tonight. Arthur swallows thickly.

“I want to wake up,” he whispers to the sky.

A tug in his chest distracts him from his self-pity. Then, he hears muffled footsteps behind him.

When he turns around, Arthur finds himself staring into a pair of striking blue eyes. Everything seems irrelevant, and all he can do is drink the sight in front of him.

The man is wearing a blue long-sleeve tunic, a matching ragged neckerchief, and brown breeches. He can see a glimpse of the pale skin in his throat, contrasting his dark, dishevelled hair. He has high cheekbones, and the biggest pair of ears he has ever seen.

It makes the man look like a character from Gaius’ legend books, a fae. But the way the man is gaping at him negates the idea, making him look like a fish instead.

Despite everything, Arthur recognizes the stranger. This man is his soulmate.

“Who are you?” Arthur asks. The man blinks and closes his mouth. “I’m Merlin. Your name is… Artie?”

Arthur instantly turns beet red. He never corrected Morgana of her butchered version of Arthur’s name (because he finds it endearing), but hearing others say it is just straight up embarrassing.

“Arthur,” he says, unconsciously lowering his voice. “My name is Arthur.”

Merlin just eyes him wearily, and Arthur bites his lip, feeling uncomfortable at the silence.

“You healed my wound,” he blurts out.

“No, I didn’t,” he replies rather quickly. Arthur arches his eyebrow. “I was stabbed. Deeply stabbed. And now, it looks like it’s just a scratch. Besides, I saw you using magic before I passed out,” he nonchalantly says.

Merlin’s eyes widen. “Okay, you’re Arthur Pendragon, right? The Prince Arthur Pendragon? The son of King Uther Pendragon, ruler of Camelot?”

His body tenses. Has he mistaken that this place is the one Gaius is referring to?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just that when my uncle wrote me a letter that a Pendragon will be coming to the house, I expected a completely different scenario,” Merlin placates.

“Wait, Gaius sent you a letter?”

“Yes. Imagine my surprise when a letter suddenly pops out of my soup last night,” Merlin chuckles softly.

Arthur releases a breath his been unknowingly holding. The last thing he wants now is to learn that Gaius is a traitor. “And what were you expecting?”

“I thought you hate magic,” Merlin says to him bluntly.

“That… that was my father.” Arthur swallows thickly, trying to forget the image of his father lifeless body slumped to the ground.

“I never liked the king. He killed a lot of innocent men, women and children.” Merlin says and takes a step forward. Arthur almost lashes out to him, if it wasn’t for the sad look on Merlin’s face. “But I know what it feels like to lose a parent. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss.”

Arthur averts his eyes. He wants to scream at Merlin. He wants to tell him that his father isn’t dead, that everything that’s happening is just a part of a horrible, _horrible_ nightmare.

“You can stay here as long as you like,” Merlin suddenly says to him, startling Arthur.

He narrows his eyes at Merlin, who just scratches the back of his neck. “What makes you think that you can trust me?” Arthur asks.

“Honestly? I don’t, but I trust Gaius. He sometimes mentions you in the letters, you know. My uncle is very fond of you,” he says softly and gives him a small smile.

Arthur just had to look away.

“Well, it looks like you don’t have any objections,” he says again, taking another step forward. Arthur mentally slaps himself as he focuses again on Merlin’s lips, that’s now curving into a mischievous smirk. “You can stay here as long as you like… in one condition.”

“You’re going to help with the chores." Arthur's stomach flips when Merlin grins at him.

_Oh fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise everything will make sense soon. Thanks for the kudos and comments :)


End file.
